New Ink

Micah Jay Allen "ZippaSlaya McFelon" Hunter Small has a new tattoo, and what a beautiful tattoo it is! Pictured left is Willard Malebear, an artist at Scarlet Harlot tattoo on Minneapolis' North side.

According to Matthew, this is the face Micah makes when he's on the phone with his parents. I say this is his "holy shit my left boob is black" face. You decide.

Re-cork

Here's a victory lap for cork-on-a-fork. I'm crazy about this photo. Now that it's all tuned up, I lovez it even more. If it ain't your cup o'tea, I'm sorry. At least you have some heavy Nietzsche to contemplate:

"Salvation of the soul—in plain words, the world revolves around me"

Jerry's Girls

Meet Sailor Jerry's pin up princesses. After bidding a bottle farewell, Rum Enthusiasts Everywhere (REE) can appreciate the old-school style and seduction of these vixens. We peeled these babes off of Matthew's collection of bottles by heating them up over the stove, one of those easier-said-than-done sort of things.

I spy:

-A lady that's wearing a white top...kind of.

-A clarinet

-(NSFW) a neat and tidy muff.

The Teachez of Peachez

Como Neighborhood, Minneapolis.

Fast Times in Walker, MN

Things are heating up in small town, Minnesota. This week the Pilot Independent, Walker's newspaper, printed some real knee-slappers in my very favorite section: the DNR Weekly Report, essientally a compendium of all the hick shit that's gone on during the last two weeks. SOLID GOLD, and annotated for my own pleasure.

I also attached the "crime" report for neighboring Hubbard county. Chicken-hound gang violence has reached an all time high, and I shudder to think what might happen if the Mad Cowz get involved.

You might have better luck reading the print if you click on the image and view it in large on my flickr account.



What a world, what a world.

I got the Blues

Oh boy! It's a macaroni and cheesecake! Mmmmm....when tupperware and cheese meet, crazy things happen. Did I eat it hot or cold? Did it get schtuck-to-ta-top-of-ma-mouf? Only one thing is certain: I got the blues, baby.



P.S. there's some sick dolly zoomin' action goin' on all up in that mac n' cheese mongerin' girl's face.

P.P.S. if the postscript didn't make much sense to you, please click on "I got the blues" in the above baby paragraph.

(P.)^3S. if the postscript still didn't make sense to you, check this out.

Sunshine Cleaners FT(1/2)W

I took a stroll the other day on the soccer fields where I grew up. It's funny to think that A(c)kel(b)e(rr)y High School used to exist and have a football team. I think I've only seen this scoreboard lit up once, way back when the WHA Wolves (holla) upset the Bemidji Lumbercocks (boo hiss) 2-1 in the most intense game of soccer I've ever played.



I'm going to watch a horror flick tonight, and it better be good. "Paranormal Activity", according to Entertainment Weekly, "scrapes away 30 years of encrusted bunion from the the stale foot that is nightmare cliché."

Thank God for that.

County Road 50

I've decided to turn December into "go take pictures because it's fun and you have mono and you have nothing else better to do" month. Yesterday, I took a c-o-o-o-o-old jaunt down county rd 50 to take a few pictures.

This, right here, is the part of the BEST set of hills to drive on in the Northern Stix. Cass County is currently pumping a ton of money into leveling them out, on account of new city folk deciding they need cabins and lakeshore (lame), but I aint havin' none o' that.



"Making one hill smaller just means making another hill larger, amiright?"

-The Dolly Llama <---Click Me :)

December

It's crisp. It's cool. It's here. I might as well get used to it. I've got a month of not-Carleton ahead of me, and I'm okay with that.